“We’re alone now,” she said.

Max looked out across the lake. In the distance, a light from a motorboat was visible, slowly skimming across the water. He furrowed his hands through her hair and pulled her into a fierce kiss. “Do you know how difficult it is being around you without touching you?” he asked, sliding his hand over her breast. “I like being able to do this whenever I want.”

Angela sighed softly. “I like it, too. I like falling asleep with you and waking up with you. And swimming naked with you.”

His lips found her breast and he teased her nipple to a peak. She shivered and he pulled her closer. “The very first time I kissed a girl, I was sitting on a pier on the other side of the this lake.” Max pointed to a light across the water. “The white light to the left of the blue one. We met on that pier and I kissed her.”

“So this is where it all began?” Angela asked.

“I guess you could say that. God, I was so nervous I thought I was going to throw up. I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I wasn’t sure where to put them.”

“I see you’ve figured that out,” she teased.

“I remember how exciting it was. My heart was pounding so hard, I thought it would burst out of my chest.” He kissed her again. “Kind of like now.”

“I was a junior in college before I got my first kiss,” Angela admitted.

“Really? How can that be? You’re so damn kissable.”

“I was a very late bloomer. As you know, I lived in a fantasy world throughout my teen years, dreaming of this gorgeous baseball player I knew.”

“I feel bad,” he said. “I wish I’d have known you back then.”

Angela shook her head. “No. You would have thought I was just pathetic. I wouldn’t have been able to put together a coherent sentence. Believe me, it’s much better that we met now.”

“I guess so,” he said. “So, when did you bloom?”

“Are you asking me when I first had sex?”

“Yes.”

“You answer first.”

“Well, surprisingly late. I fooled around a lot, but I didn’t want to do anything that might mess up my future in the major leagues. It was the summer after I graduated from high school. She was the older sister of one of my teammates. After that, there was no going back. What about you?”

“I was twenty-one. By my junior year in college, I’d decided it was time to put a little effort into my appearance. I tossed aside the ugly duckling and tried to become a swan. And it worked. Sort of.”

“It sure did,” he murmured.

He kissed her again and when he drew back, he fought the urge to tell her exactly how he felt. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was falling in love with Angela. By tomorrow night, they’d have known each other a week. He was already imagining what it would be like to know her for the rest of his life.

“Are you cold?”

“It’s a little chilly out here.”

“I’ve reserved a private room for us.” He pointed to the boat. “It’s got a beautiful lake view, a nice big bed and all the privacy we could want.” He helped her back onto the pier and then held her hand as she stepped down into the boat.

He grabbed a towel and dried them both off, admiring the sight of her naked body in the moon light. Then they crawled beneath the sleeping bags and pressed their naked bodies together for warmth.

“What do you think?”

“I’ve never slept outside before.”

“Never?”

She shook her head. “What if I have to go to the bathroom?”

“You walk back up to the house,” he said.

“But aren’t there animals outside?”

“Wake me up. I’ll come with you.”

She drew a deep breath, then relaxed. “No pillows?”

“Do you want a pillow?” Max asked.

“Yes, please. And a bottle of water. And my lip balm. I left it on the beside table in the bedroom.”

“We’re supposed to be roughing it,” Max said. “I don’t think lip balm and bottled water qualify.”

“But I’m very particular about my sleeping environment,” she said. “Things have to be just right, or I don’t sleep at all.”

“You don’t have any trouble sleeping in my bed,” he said.

“That’s because your bedroom has solid walls, an adjoining bathroom, 600-count sheets and really nice down pillows. But I did have trouble sleeping that first night. Mostly because we were up so high and I felt the building swaying. Kind of like this boat.

And, your clock makes this funny humming sound, so I had to put it inside the drawer.” She paused. “Lip balm?”

“All right,” Max said. “Lip balm, water, pillow. I’ll be right back. If you see any bears, just give me a call.”

“There are bears?”

“No,” he said. “But if you see any, I want to know.” Max grabbed his clothes, then stepped out of the boat to dress on the pier. “You’re very high maintenance. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

“Never,” she said. “Lip balm, please.”

Max walked back to the cabin, laughing softly. This was interesting, he thought to himself. The more comfortable they became with each other, the more he began to discover about her. She was a bit odd, but he liked that about Angela. All her idiosyncrasies were so damn lovable.

He tiptoed into her bedroom and retrieved the tube of lip balm and a pillow, then fetched her a bottle of water. But by the time he got back to the boat, she was asleep. Max stripped off his shorts, then pulled the sleeping bag up around them both.

She sighed softly as she curled her body into his, pressing her face against his shoulder. “Good night, sweetheart,” he whispered.

As her breathing slowed, Max silently stroked her back, his eyes closed, his body completely relaxed. Though it always seemed like the most natural thing in the world to make love to Angela, lying beside her like this felt just as good. He could spend his entire life like this, if he chose. He could have her forever.

He’d have to get her to agree, but Max didn’t see that as an insurmountable problem. After all, he was a charming guy. And women loved him. But, there was only one woman he wanted and he had to figure out a way to make her need him as much as he needed her.

MAX SAT AT THE BAR, the Tribune sports page spread out in front of him. He scanned the box scores for the Rays, then went though the rest of the scores for the teams in his division.

He and Angela had driven back from Chicago the previous morning and spent the entire day and night in his apartment, curled up in bed watching old movies, eating Szechwan, and reading the Sunday paper.

But when he suggested they spend Tuesday in bed as well, she’d put her foot down. She had to at least make an attempt to go to work on occasion. The more she left for Ceci to do, the further behind they got, she’d argued. So Max had reluctantly kissed her goodbye, pulled on shorts and a T-shirt and gone for a run. “Hey there!”

Max glanced up to see Dave strolling in through the kitchen door. “Hey. I didn’t expect you back until later. It’s not even eleven.”

“Lauren got us up at the crack of dawn,” he said. She said she wanted to do some gardening. And the kids have swimming lessons this afternoon.” Dave tossed his keys on the bar then poured himself a glass of lemonade from the pitcher in the refrigerator. “So, did you have a nice weekend?”

“It was great until my bozo of a brother showed up and ruined it all.”

“Sorry. I guess now that you’re home, we’ll have to schedule our weekends at the cabin. Lauren extends her deepest apologies, as well. Although she was really glad she got a chance to meet Angela. Lauren said you two met in high school. I didn’t know Angela went to Evanston. But now that I think of it, I remember a Susan Weatherby. She was really smart.”

“We didn’t know each other back then.”

“Lauren also mentioned that she thought she recognized her from somewhere.”

“Susan?”

“No, Angela.”

Max looked up from his paper to find Dave watching him with a cautious expression. “From where?”

His older brother winced. “Well, that’s the thing. She couldn’t remember. So she did an Internet search and…well, she remembered seeing Angela on a morning news show last winter.”

Max felt his gut twist as he recognized the look in his brother’s eyes. This was not going to be good. Was she a criminal? A bunny boiler? Or even worse-a reporter? “What?”

“Lauren found a video clip. It turns out Angela Weatherby is writing a book. About dating disasters.

I think she might be writing about you.”

Max braced his elbow on the edge of the bar, frowning. “Angela? No, she would have told me about that.”

“She has a Web site, Max. It’s a big collection of dating horror stories. They have files on thousands and thousands of guys, all written by the women they’ve screwed over. And guess who’s on the Web site?”

“Me?”

Dave nodded. “Yeah. You’ve got a really fat file.

Lots of women have a helluva lot to say about you.

And none of it is very nice.”

“Nah, Lauren must have it wrong. There’s probably another Angela Weatherby.”

“Look for yourself,” Dave said. “You can use the computer in my office. I’m just saying, if you’re going to invest time in this girl, maybe you ought to get to know her a little better.”

“It’s not going to make a difference,” Max said.

“So she’s writing a book.”

“And maybe you’re just research?”

“Jeez, David, give me a break. We’re sleeping together. Don’t you think that’s a little extreme to be research? She’s a nice girl. She wouldn’t do that.”

“I’m just looking out for you, man. You have to admit that you haven’t made a lot of sensible choices when it comes to women. Half of them were flat out crazy, and the other half were only interested in sex.”

“And you think Angela fits in one of those two categories?”

“Just go take a look and form your own opinion. I just think you might have a few questions you want answered.”